The Importance of Lying
by Dustal Gray
Summary: Yami No Matsuei and La Portrait De La Petite Cossette, crossover. Has most characters. Rated M, based on Fanfiction standerds.
1. Chapter 1

**6/24/10...**

The antique shop is red. Red as blood.

It is in the center of two other streets, but attracts little costumers.

It had been three days since Eiri discovered the girl within the Venetian-glass cup. When he first discovered her, he believed he was going crazy. But the more he was with the cup, the more he studied it, he found himself drawn to her.

He sat holding the cup into the sunlight, which show in soft rays across the ancient, unwanted objects of the shop, the hues of the up reflecting in rainbow-like smudges. The colored glows flicker across the room, give shape and shadow to the shelves of plates and porcelain dolls, to the glass animals, the golden lamp-stands, ornate chairs, and the the grandfather clock.

Aside from the boy's gentle breathing, the antique shop was silent. He sat at the front desk, next to the cash-register, one hand holding the Venetian-glass cup, the other relaxed across the table. A name formed on his lips, was made aloud in a soft, wondering voice: "Cossette..."

A young girl passed over the rainbow surface of the glass, running, laughing, from green to red, to blue, to purple, then...gone.

Eiri's heart skips a beat, and he bends over the glass, twisting it carefully in both hands, searching. "Cossette?" he whispers.

A small bell chimes, and Eiri looks up as his friend walks into the shop, greeting the boy with a loud, cheery, "Good-morning, Eiri!"

Eiri snatches open the desk drawer and lays the glass down in one fluid motion, holding his breath until the drawer was closed. "Hello, Mataki." he replies, standing from his place at the desk. Before she got too close, Eiri went around and hugs her.

"Eiri- have the shipment of silverware came in yet?" asks Makati once Eiri lets her go.

"Silver...ware...?" mumbles Eiri, frowning slightly. Makati's eyes narrow, impatient. Then he remembers earlier in the day, a man had arrived with several boxes of silverware from Europe, boxes of which were stored upstairs. "Oh!" he says, nodding. "Yes, yeah..."

"Well go get them and set them up!" snaps Mataki, her large lips pursing.

Eiri smiles, then apologizes again, before running upstairs. "I'll be right back!" he calls.

Mataki walks with a smirk on her face, touching the shelves of unwanted things. Her fingers gather the dust of every sneeze and the filth of every finger that touched the shelves before her; she rolls the gray powdery dust between her fingers, turning it into a dirty ball. She grimaces at it, and wonders if there are any wash cloths around so she can clean up. She looks over to the desk where Eiri had sat, turning her head slow and deliberate.

The bell chimes.

Mataki flinches and looks at the door, where a white-haired man in a white suit enters. Seeing him, Mataki touches her hair more neatly in place, rubs down her dress with her soft, slender fingers. She puts on a winning smile, and bows to the man. "Hello!" she says loudly, "Welcome!"

The man picks up a round vase from a shelf, and turns it, checking it, then puts it back.

"Is there something you're looking for?" asks Mataki, approaching him.

The man looks at her, and she hesitates. His right eye is larger than his left, colored like a clear amethyst gem. He passes a hand through his white hair, and the girl then notices his red stud-earrings.

he tells her, his voice soft, almost musical. I am expecting a guess tonight, and I wanted to dazel him with something...unique.

"Dinner, eh?" says Mataki, clasping her hands in front of herself. "Well, we have some really nice plates, candles, glass-pieces, and portraits." When the man said nothing, she continued more bluntly, "We also have vases, glasses, and-"

"May I have a look at your glasses, please?" he asks smoothly.

"Sure- I mean..." Mataki bowed. "Wait right here." The girl turns and walks around the desk, and opens it, taking out the Venetian glass. She holds it up to the light. "How's this?" she asks.

The man walks over and takes the cup. His thin white fingers pass over the hued surface, and a smile appears on his lips. "Do you have any more of these?" he asks.

"Yes, about a dozen others, sir." replies the girl.

The man places the cup on the table, and says, "I'll take four."

"Okay." Mataki walks back around and says, "Excuse me, but I have to go down to the basement and get them; I'll be right back."

"No hurry," comes the man's reply.

She starts to leave, and he turns back to the glasses. "Oh, sir?" Mataki says, one hand on the basement door. She looks to him, curiously. He stares back. "Are you a regular costumer here? Regulars get discounts."

"No." answers the man. He picks up the glass, and holds it to the light again.

Mataki frowns and leaves down to the basement. She wants to get rid of as many of the glasses as she can, so she figures the numbers in her head- a discount that will, maybe, excite the man into buying more than what he needs. eagerly, she goes over to the large cabinet and takes out three more glasses, wraps them in newspaper, then returns, the glasses rustling softly under her grasp. "Here we are!" she says, placing them on the counter top. "Four-" she takes the glasses from the man's hand, and sets it back on the desk. "-Venetian glasses." she taps on the cash-register, then says, in habit, "The cost is about $700 each," Lying, she adds, "But as a discount, they're only $500 each."

"If I am not a regular here, than why am I getting a discount?" he asks, a thin smile on his lips.

Mataki blushes, then says, in a harsh tone, "Because you've picked the only thing that's on sale!" she says, trying to sound excited. She ends up sounding mad.

He reaches out and slowly moves the two glasses of his choice to one side, and says. "I'll take these two."

"Y-you dont want the other two?" asks Mataki hastily.

The man shakes his head. "No thankyou." he says coldly.

Sighing, Mataki tells him the price, and he pays, plucking the glasses off the counter before she has time to wrap them in newspaper. Mataki glares into his back angrily as he leaves, muttering under her breath.

He pauses at the doorway, and looks at her. "I didn't catch your name." he says.

"M-Mataki, sir!" she says loudly. He nods, then acts like he is leaving. "And what is your name, sir?" Matak nearly yells after him.

He sweeps a hand through his white hair, and regards her with bright eyes. "Muraki Kazutaka, miss." he answers. He then leaves, the glasses glinting under his arm.

Matak smiles. "I hope he doesn't return anytime shortly." she mutters. Turning to the other two glasses, she takes them and returns them to the basement, locking them into the cabinet, where other cups and plates sit and witness what has happened; where a large clock ticks, ticks, listening, waiting. Havering anger and madness.

When Mataki leaves, she makes sure the door is shut tight: The light from the first floor is shunned, leaving the basement in a deep blackness.

...

When Eiri finally came down from upstairs, he holds two large crates of silverware. He places these near the window, saying, "My God.." he wipes the sweat from his neck, and looks over at Mataki, who uses a feather duster across some glass dolls and a vase.

"What took you so long?" Mataki asks, on cue.

"Whoever my uncle bought the silverware from, they didn't bother to organize knives from forks! Urh..." he winces, standing straighter. "There'sat least four other boxes still up there, needing to be sorted..."

"Then why are you standing here? What is taking you so long, Eiri?" demands Mataki. "I already had a costumer- and I need you down here with me!"

"Did he leave?" asks Eiri.

Mataki nods, and begins playing with the feathers of the duster.

"Did he buy anything?" Eiri presses.

"Hm? Yeah. Nothing important, though."

Eiri frowns slightly and looks up at the staircase. "Nothing Important..." he mutters. He glances at the desk, where his valued Venetain glass was nestled, and sighed. He wants to check and make sure it is still there, but he doesnt want to draw attention to it.

Why are you still standing there? Mataki says, her eyes tightening. Is something wrong?

"No..." Eiri starts walking upstairs. "It's nothing important..." he says.

...

When Muraki arrives at his house, he made sure that everything was in place. He put the lamb in the oven, set the table, and lit the candles, and turned water on to boil inside a large pot. He followed the recipe and made a beautiful lemon cake, and while that baked on one oven, he made sure the lamb was coloring in the other. In the boiling water, carrots, raisins, and celery were tossed in to die. He added chicken broth, and sprinkled herbs for flavor.

The last thing, would be the wine. He walked down into his cellar and ran his finger across the hundreds of bottles left to age, and he picked out a vintage, 1960 aged bottle of, Quinta Do Noval, from Portugal. "This will do nicely." he says to himself.

Muraki walks back upstairs and places the bottle in the center of the table. Then he remembers the glasses. He looks over his shoulder to the kitchen, where two nearly-identical glasses sit, their colors flickering in the candle's flames around the room.

He walks over and picks up one of the glasses, wiping any unseen dust from the inside with a cloth, and sets it on the table. He goes back for the other.

_"Why...?" _a voice speaks out quietly, a voice touched with pain and sorrow.

Muraki freezes, and looks around.

_"Why did you take me away...?"_ moans the voice.

Muraki walks over to the glass and snatches it from the table, staring deeply into the glass. "What are you?" he demands.

Then he sees.

He sees a forest, and his vision is sent flying beyond the forest, focusing in on a large mansion, set upon a valley of green beauty. Muraki glances at one of the windows, noticing movement, and his vision zooms in and through the window, and rotates around slowly. The room is a large bedroom, in which most of the furniture is clothed in red velvet. Portraits of a single girl hang on every wall, and the vision moves more slowly, then stops to settle on a girl, sitting on the bed.

She is the girl from the portrait, but she is dressed in a puffy pink dress with white ruffles, her yellow-gold hair tied neatly from her face with a red ribbon, her bangs curling loosely on her forehead.

Her sad eyes are blue.

"What is this...?" mutters Muraki, his face creasing in worry of the unexplainable. "What are you doing in there?" he asks very quietly.

The girl smiles, then runs, leaving the room. Muraki watches the girl leave, and his vision follows her down a hallway, and downstairs, until a flash of red blinds him, and he looks away.

Blinking, Muraki looks back at the glass, but only sees the colors; no girl, no mansion. No sad, blue eyes.

...

Hours pass, and night arrives. Costumers had came and went, buying very little.

When Mataki decided it was closing time, she bid Eiri goodnight and told him they should hang out more often. Maybe go out for lunch some time.

Eiri only smiled and waved, waiting til the door closed to express how he really felt. Turning from the door, he walks to the desk, saying, "Cossette, can you hear me? She's gone." he reaches the desk, his fingers curl over wooden knob. "We can be together again," he says. But when he opens the drawer, nothing is there but the soft blue cloth he had laid for the Venetian glass to rest on. But the glass itself is gone.

He denies what he sees, and quickly passes his hands around the inside of the drawer, muttering, "No, no...no!_" _But he finds nothing. "NOOO!" He yells, bringing his hands to his hair. _The other drawers_... he thinks urgently. He jerks them open and digs around- nothing. He knocks the drawer shut and shoves his hand into another, and continues digging until he accidentally slams his fingers so hard into the back of the desk, one of his nails bends backwards and breaks.

He cries out sharply, recoiling, his blood flying up into the air. He examines his trembling hand, and sees that his right-index fingernail has been split down the middle, tearing into the flesh. Blood oozes out quickly, and red is all he sees. A drop falls and hits the carpet; Eiri backs away, looking between his feet at the blood. Another drop follows. Then another.

"Cossette..." he whispers.

...


	2. Chapter 2

...

Mataki walks swiftly down the street, glancing uncertainly up at the sky. She scowls at the rain clouds, and digs out her pocket-umbrella. But before she can open it, someone calls her name. She recognizes it, but does not notice the loud, angry tone. With a short laugh, Mataki turns back towards the antique shop with a smile. Her smile then vanishes.

Eiri is running straight for her, his teeth his in a savage clinch, fingers twisted at his sides, eyes wild as a horse. "Mataki!" he shouts again. "You _bastard_!"

Mataki, frightened, turns and starts to run; even though confused, she was too afraid to confront him.

But Eiri caught up quickly and grabs her by the arm, forcing her against a wall. "Where is it!" he bellows in her face, his fingers twsiting her slender arms violently.

"Eiri, stop it!" shrieks Mataki, her heart racing, a long ringing in her ears. "Why are you hurting me?"

"Where's Cossette?" Eiri yells, then he winces, and says, "Where's the glass!"

"Who is Cossette?" cries Mataki, tears in her eyes. "What _glass_?"

Grinding his teeth, Eiri releases her and backhands her across the face, her head hitting the wall. "Stop pretending!" he growls. "What did you do with the Venetain glass that was in the desk?"

"Th-the...desk?" whispers Mataki. She trembles underneath Eiri's strength, her voice clotted by fear and misery. "I..." Mataki hesitated. She was afraid of telling the truth. But when Eiri reached up and grabbed her hair, she cried out, "I sold it!"

Eiri's eyes widened. "Wh...what...?"

"i sold it..." she answers again, sobbing. "I sold it..."

"No..." Eiri's eyes close as he tries to think- then snap open. "Mataki- who? Who did you sell it to?"

Mataki shook her head, not remembering. "I..I dont know.." she whispers. She tried mustering up her strength. "Eiri..." she says, staring up at him. "What the hell is wrong with you...?"

The rain begins to fall.

Eiri looks up at the dark sky, and his hands fall from Mataki's body. She leans against the wall, panting from nerves, and Eiri falls to the ground. He brings himself to his knees, and stares down at the sidewalk, the rain drinching them both.

A wind blows across the world, stirring bits of paper and dust.

Mataki watches the dust, and says quietly, "Muraki..."

Eiri looks up at her, slowly.

"His name is Muraki." Mataki meets Eiri's eyes evenly. Then she turns and runs away.

Eiri rises to his feet, and wonders where to go next. He looks down the street, and watches Mataki vanish down an alley. Lightning flashes once. Twice.

Eiri's eyes close as his heart begins to ache harder. "Cos...sette..." he moans.

The clouds slowly parted, revealing the sun once last time; Eiri looks up when he feels the warmth of it's rays on his skin, but by now, the sun is already gone.

...

Tsuzuki arrived at 7pm sharp; right on time.

Muraki strides over to the door and opens it, jsut as the young man began to knock. "Good-evening, Mr. Tsuzuki."

"Why did you invite me?" snarls the other man, his purple eyes gleaming.

"Right this way," Muraki says pleasently. He turns and guides his guest across the house, and shows him the lavish set-up of the dinner table. Muraki could not help but feel pleased with himself when he noticed Tsuzuki's eyes widen in shock and excitement at the arrangment of expensive foods.

In a large white bowl are the boiled vegetables, of which surround a sweet, browned lamb. In two other bowls are a serving of lemon cake, with a small green garnish on top.

A Venetain glass sit on either side of the table, next to an empty plate.

"Muraki..." says Tsuzuki, feeling awkwardly blessed.

"Please," Muraki pulls out a chair. "Have a seat."

Tsuzuki walks into the room and removes his jacket, hanging it on the coat-rack conviently placed beside him. . He sits down, and looks at Muraki dryly. Awed, he busys himself by holding the Venetain glass up, admiring it's colors.

An elbow on the table, a fingertips restong under his chin, Muraki stares back with a small smile.

He puts the glass back on the table, and blinks. Tsuzuki looks down at his empty plate, then across the table. His mouth begins to water, so he reaches for a roll, hungrily.

"Shall we bless the food?" asks Muraki sweetly, clasping his fingers together.

Tsuzuki blushes, and bows his head, eyes closing.

"Dear God..." Muraki says. He smiles, staring only at the man across from him. "Thankyou for allowing Mr. Tsuzuki to come over for dinner. And thankyou, God, for answering my prayers. Thankyou for this food you allowed Man to slaughter; may it bring nourishment to our bodies. It is in your Name and your Son's that I pray, amen."

When the young man looks up from bowing, he catches Muraki's eyes, and looks back down.

"Guests eat first," Muraki states. He waves a hand at the food. "It's getting cold. I'd hate for my guest to eat cold food, simply because he refuses to eat first."

Tsuzuki grabs a knife from the table and carves off a piece of lamb, then uses a large spoon to gather some vegetables onto his plate. He adds three rolls to his plate, and slides his precious bowl of lemon cake closer to himself. Then he starts eating.

Muraki smiles, and watches him eat. Once Tsuzuki looks like he's struggling to swallow his food, Muraki stands up from the table, saying, "Would you like some wine, Mr. Tsuzuki?"

Nodding, Tsuzuki swallows a hard lump of bread, and forks carrots into his mouth, huger consuming his will to act civilized.

Muraki walks back over with the bottle of 1960 Quinta Do Noval, and runs his fingers up and down the bottle, saying, "This is an excelent wine. I've been personally saving it for fifty years- do me the honor of drinking it."

Gagging on a piece of meat, the other man can only nod. He reaches out urgently for the wine, but Muraki uncorks it and pours it himself, letting the deep, red liquid fill the colorful Venetain glass.

"Tell me, Mr. Tsuzuki..." Muraki says quietly, his tone surprisingly sad. "Do you enjoy my company?"

Tsuzuki chokes and grabs the wine the minute Muraki turns away. He downs the wine quickly, his throat burning at the unfamiliar taste. He then starts to cough. Once he recovers, Tsuzuki sighs, wearily. A napkin dabs his face gently, and Tsuzuki looks up sharply at Muraki, who stands at his side and wipes the crumbs and drops of red from his face. Tsuzuki shoves his hand away.

Muraki returns to his seat and pours himself some wine, saying, "This wine is quite good, don't you agree?" he sips it, his eyes glinting dangerously. "But I don't suppose you enjoyed it, since you swallowed it so fast."

Tsuzuki watches as Muraki carves himself a piece of lamb, and starts eating. Looking back at his crowded plate of food, the younger man looses his appitite.

...

Eiri found himself forced to ask people who, and where, Muraki is. He asks a woman selling fish in the rain, asks a man selling umberellas, and went into local resturants, asking the waiters. But no one gave him useful information.

Walking down to some apartments, he began knocking on random doors, asking if Muraki was there, then apologising, and acting like he "had the wrong address."

...

"I invited you over for dinner so we could get closer together," explains Muraki as Tsuzuki puts on his jacket. "But I have something to show you."

Tsuzuki casts his eyes over the spread of half-eaten food, and the mess they had created. He wondered if he should stay and help clean up, but then decided against it.

"What?" asks Tsuzuki.

Muraki, to the other man's curiosity, walks over to the sink, where he pours out his expensive wine. He rinses it out, while Tsuzuki sighs, impatient. Muraki walks back over and offers him the Venetain glass. "Look into it." he tells him.

"What...?" Tsuzuki takes the glass. "Why?"

"Please." Muraki's eyes narrow slightly. "Do as I ask. For once."

Tsuzuki frowns and looks into the glass. He turns it's glowing colors around, and traces it with his fingers. "Um..." he mutters. He holds it to the light, "I don't...see-" and nearly drops it- he grabs it hastily by the handle, swearing lightly.

Muraki reaches out and plucks the glass out of Tsuzuki's hands, saying, "Damn it, Tsuzuki, be careful!"

"I'm sorry!" snaps Tsuzuki, he straightens his tie, and glares at the white-haired man. "What was i looking for?"

Muraki doesnt answer. He stares into the glass, and sees a little girl staring back. "Nothing..." he says quietly, a smiling spreading over his face. "You may leave, Mr. Tsuzuki."

Tsuzuki obeys, saying, "This was such a waste of my time!"

The door slams loudly, but Muraki begins to chuckle. "I have you all to myself, don't I?" he asks the glass.

A girl with yellow-gold hair looks up, her blue eyes shining. She smiles.

Muraki smiles back.

...

Eiri did not want to give up. but hours pass, and he became exsaulsted. He soon fell asleep on the sidewalk.

He was found by his aunt, who had a few strangers help carry him back to the antique shop- where he belongs. They let him sleep until the next morning.

Mataki never spoke a word about Eiri's strange behaivor. She didn't even arrive at the shop. According to Eiri when he woke up, they "broke up," and he was too miserble to go home right away.

His aunt sympathized, and had the boy drink some green tea when he woke up at noon. She gave him the week off. But the boy insisted he stay.

Not even an hour passed before Eiri began pacing the shop, his thoughts lingering on Cossette. "Aunt?" he asks, looking over at her, who sits in For-Sale rocking-chair.

"Yes?" she asks, her large feet pushing herself back and forth in a slow, creaking motion.

"Do you know who Muraki is?" asks Eiri.

"Who is that?"

"A man came by here yesterday, and he bought..." Eiri's eyes close. "...he bought some Venetain glasses." says Eiri, a hot shiver passes over his spine.

"And?" presses the old woman.

"And he didn't pay the correct amount." lied Eiri. "i need to find him and make sure he pays."

"What? A thief?" gasps the Aunt. "Well, well...we cant have thieves in our shop!" the lady rouse from her chair and walks to the computer desk, and says, "You should have a list of costumors and their purchases in here."

"Yeah, but i need his address." says Eiri, following the woman.

She types something ontot he computer, and says, "Is that him?"

Several dozen links appear, all starting with the name Muraki. Some are young men advertising their products, others are Facebook or Youtube accounts. Eyes narrowing, Eiri reaches out and takes the mouse, moving the pointer across he screen. He adds into the search bar, "Venetain glasses." and clicks enter.

The results change drastically: Muraki is selling fish, Muraki has a new favorite video, Muraki hates dogs; there are stories and videos based on dozens of other Muraki, but nothing good comes up.

"Damn it!" Eiri growls.

"Eiri!" snaps his Aunt. "Such lanuage!"

Eiri turns away and paces the floor. He sees his sketchbook on a table, and his heart clinches. _Cossette... _he thinks passionately. _Will you be waiting for me when I find you?_

"If it's that important, why not ask the operator for his phone number?" says his Aunt.

Eiri nods, and leaves, going outside. He flips open his cell phone and calls the operater. The woman on the other end of the world, tells him two different numbers local to him. Eiri writes down both, thanks the lady, and hangs up.

The first number is "temperaroly out of service."

He tries the other.

"Hello?" says a soft, male's voice.

"Muraki?" says Eiri, uncertainly.

"Yes?"

Eiri's heart quickens. "I need to speak to you in private about the glass you bought at the antique shop yesterday morning."

"Certainly," comes the imediate repsonse. "When will you be stopping by?"

Eiri and muraki short-talk until he gets the address and time to meet. Eiri hangs up. _It's not his fault he go hold of Cossette..._ he tells himself._ I shouldn't be mad at him_. _It's Mataki. Mataki is the fault of all of this. When I meet him tomorrow, I will get you back, Cossette. I will never let you go._

...


	3. Chapter 3

Please review so I know you're actually interested in this story. I do have plans on continueing, but feed-back would be nice...

I'll be more than happy to take requests.

Thanks.

-Dustal


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